


A Shiver of Metal

by Sapphic_Futurist



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Tony Stark, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, M/M, Minor Other Characters - Freeform, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony/Bucky-centric, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23789125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphic_Futurist/pseuds/Sapphic_Futurist
Summary: It’s been weeks now since the rogue Avengers had returned to the Tower, and Tony has been hanging – hiding – out in his workshop ever since. He just wasn’t expecting it to be the one-armed cyborg who worked up the nerve to actually call him out for it.In which Tony has anxiety, Bucky's a shameless flirt and the metal arm gets an accidentally sexy new upgrade.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 48
Kudos: 687





	A Shiver of Metal

**Author's Note:**

> So listen, I'm a long time lurker, first-time poster, and this happened this week in the midst of six hundred other pieces I only ever write for myself and I thought hey, let's give it a go and try posting something for once.
> 
> All it took was ten years of self-encouragement, a binge watch of the MCU and a shameless crush on RDJ. 
> 
> This author takes feedback willingly, but with a delicate heart. Enjoy.

"Why don’t you ever join us for dinner?”

The question doesn’t come as a massive surprise. It’s been weeks now since the rogue Avengers had returned to the Tower, and Tony has been hanging – hiding – out in his workshop ever since. He just wasn’t expecting it to be the one-armed cyborg who worked up the nerve to actually call him out for it.

Tony had run into some of the others, much to his annoyance. Each time it was awkward and uncomfortable and Tony fought hard not to press a hand into the ache that the anxiety inevitably spiked in his chest. Each time always the same; a sharp stab of pain that relaxed into a steady throb until he could skitter away and find refuge.

Funny, for a man who owned a multi-million-dollar tower, he had very few private spaces these days.

The conversations had been easy enough to cut short with meaningless small talk and excuses of board meetings, phone conferences, committee hearings. Sam and Wanda had been stiff and uneasy, offering him quiet thank you’s for his help in altering their fugitive status after months of consultations with the Accords counsel. Clint’s disdain for awkward confrontation running far deeper than his own meant that he hadn’t yet had the pleasure with the Hawk.

Running into Steve Rogers, however, had been far more difficult, with his sad eyes and deadly hands, coming up behind him when he wasn’t expecting it and almost startling the life out of him.

The memory made him twitchy; how he had jumped and gasped, a hand flying up instinctively to repulsor the shit out of him. The look on Steve’s face made the deep throb turn into fierce, fiery pain that radiated across the span of his chest. His left hand spasmed and he had wanted to earth to swallow him up, the heady mixture of embarrassment and fear, humiliation and guilt bubbling deep in his gut. Not that he had anything to feel guilty or humiliated, or embarrassed about, for that matter. It was Steve that should feel guilty, Steve who had lied and destroyed and hurt.

His fear in that moment had been relevant. Necessary. Fight or flight and all that bullshit.

The memory came with a faint taste of bile in the back of his throat.

“Busy, busy, busy Buckaroo. You know how it is.” Tony replied lightly, practically elbows deep in his left arm as it lay prone on the workbench in front of him. Today, he had pulled a few pieces apart, trying to target a dull whining that Bucky had noticed in the middle of the upper-arm portion. With the countless hours he’d put in over the past few weeks, he knew the glorious prosthetic like the back of his own two hands.

Bucky was the only rogue Avenger he didn’t have a problem with, if that wasn’t something one of his many ex-therapists would have loved to pick apart and analyze.

Well. The only Avenger that didn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin and jump out the nearest window. He wouldn’t say the guy was his friend or anything. He had killed his parents after all.

_No_ , _the Winter Soldier killed your parents_. Right. The Winter Soldier. It had taken a lot of hard work, and maybe the slightest amount of shock therapy – thanks for that JARVIS – to help him condition himself into seeing Bucky and the Soldier as two separate entities. The Soldier was long gone now, banished by some fantastical science in Wakanda that Tony wasn’t privy to.

And after all these years, Tony was starting to become a sucker for a redemption story. It made it slightly easier that the man that sat before him now a stark contrast to the man that he’d met at the airport; Siberia.

“First, I really don’t. Not like there’s a ton for me to do around this place, and second, you’re a bad liar.” Bucky pointed out, equally light. “But somehow everyone else seems to buy it so I s’pose you can keep up the act a bit longer. Won’t work forever, ya know.”

“Mm,” Tony hummed, non-committedly as he peered into the inner workings just above the elbow. There was a stray wire just beyond his reach and he shifted the flashlight from his right hand into his mouth, giving him better access with the multi-tool.

“So, what’s it then?” Bucky pressed. “Stevie says you’ve forgiven ’im and I saw you talkin’ to Wanda just yesterday.”

Tony bit back a scoff at that. Right. He’d forgiven him. When he was stammering out that he’d be more than happy to work on Barnes’ arm if that’s what he wanted, and that Steve should make himself at home and check in with JARVIS about anything they needed now that they’d returned.

When he’d said as much as he’d needed to, just to end the conversation as quickly as possible. When he’d flinched under the hand that Steve had placed on his shoulder, thanking him for everything, and admitting that he had missed him.

Tony had bitten the inside of his lip and smiled right back. “Glad you all made it back in one piece,” He had said, halfway to hysterical. Then he’d turned on his heels, cup of coffee forgotten on the kitchen counter, and fled like cheap one-night stand.

That had been three weeks ago now.

Tony sighed heavily. “Listen, I’m happy to work on this heap of junk, but I could really do without the small talk today. Headache and all that, you know? So, if you can’t keep your mouth shut, we’ll have to finish this another day.”

“You love this heap of junk,” Bucky shot back, a half grin twitching at his mouth. “And you don’t have a headache. But that’s fine, if ya want to keep avoiding the subject. It’d just be nice to see your face outside of the shop once and a while, y’know?”

“Bring your forearm up a bit, say, 45-degree angle?” Tony prompts him, disregarding him entirely, with an ear close to the metal as he listened for the whine. Damn, clearly that wire hadn’t been the issue. He pried a larger plate off to work his way up closer to the shoulder.

For a few minutes, the silence stretches between them, broken only by the hissing and whirling of the circuits in Bucky’s arm and the soft, stunted mumbling as Tony worked himself through the issue aloud.

“You know, you an’ Stevie are alotta like.” Bucky broke in again.

Tony rolled his eyes at the star on his upper arm. “Oh?”

“Mhm. You’re both passionate, driven, hardworking. You’re both stubborn as fuck, and neither of you takes criticism overly well, but then when you work with a bunch of egotistical superheroes, what’d’ya expect?” Bucky said, “But the most annoying part is how goddamn self-sacrificing you both are.”

“Wow, heavy praise,” Tony snarked back, “But you’re wrong there, C3PO, I’m pretty sure I’ve been Times’ “Most Selfish Man of the Year” for at least the past decade.”

Bucky snorted at that, earning a _tsk_ from Tony when his left arm jostled slightly. “I finally watched A New Hope last weekend. C3PO is full robot. Robocop is more accurate than that.”

“You don’t get to pick the nicknames, Frozone.” Tony shot back.

“That one doesn’t even make sense. Too much of a stretch.” Bucky argued, and Tony relaxed ever so slightly into the easy banter.

This was why he liked Bucky.

The conversation was, almost always, light and easy with a banter that made him comfortable. It had been helpful in the beginning, because Tony, try as he might, just couldn’t picture himself bantering with the Winter Soldier. Not that it hurt that the man in front of him had the whole poor-lost-man-out-of-time, talk, dark and deadly thing going for him.

Bucky was a man after his own heart with the sass he could dole out. Tony had even enjoyed the brief back and forth that he’d overheard between Bucky and Clint on his way past the common spaces, later into the evening. It had, if only briefly, made him miss the way the Hawk had razzed him over the past few years.

Definitely not enough for him to address Clint himself. Not yet.

“But, yeah,” Bucky returned to the apparent subject at hand, “Self-sacrificing. I mean, with Stevie it’s pretty on-the-nose. The guy’s practically a walking martyr. But with you… s’different. You have to look past the ego and the arrogance, but it’s self-sacrificing all the same.”

“Careful there, Bucky-boy, if I wasn’t mistaken, I’d think you were inviting me into a ménage-a-trois with you and the Cap.” Tony teased.

“Ain’t that an interesting take. But there’d hafta be a me and Cap to invite you into.” Bucky replied sardonically.

Tony paused then, flicking a quick look up at Bucky in surprise. He had assumed the pair were together, the way they moved with such ease and comfort around each other. Bucky had even moved into Steve’s suite when he’d arrived.

His eyes skittered back to the arm when he was met with an unexpectedly dark, heated stare.

“That so,” He muttered, noncommittally. A gear shifted into view as he rotated Bucky’s forearm to the left. “There’s the fucker,” Tony groused, pushing the arm further to the left as he reached in with the multitool and pushed the gear back into place. Rotating the arm back at the elbow, he listened for the whine, but heard nothing. “Got it!” He exclaimed, tossing the multitool onto the table between them in triumph.

Bucky grinned as he started popping the outer panels back into place, fingers twitching and flexing as he regained sensation.

“Cap’s as straight as an arrow, Tony, you know that.” Bucky informed him. “Just for the record though, I’m as queer as a three-dollar bill.” He flinched slightly as Tony popped the wrist-plate back in – the most sensitive part of the entire arm – but didn’t so much as grunt at the sensation.

“Looks like we’re done here, Barnes.” The engineer intentionally ignored the last statement, feeling twitchy and uneasy. When Bucky hesitated on the workbench, he came up short, confused. “What?” Tony demanded.

“Got something t’show ya.” Bucky drawled, pressing ever so slightly closer into Tony’s space, the arm still laying flat in front of them. “You ’member how you added the sensation receptors?”

How could Tony forget? That had been a streak of genius that had happened upon him a couple days after Bucky had first let him disassemble the arm entirely. That morning, he’d burnt his own hand to the point of blistering on a hot soldering tip that JARVIS later advised had almost certainly occurred due to lack of appropriate sleep over the seventy-two hours prior. But he had realized that with the new nanotechnology he had been working on, paired with the regeneration work Dr. Cho had been experimenting with, he might just be able to give Bucky some semblance of human sensation despite the prosthetic.

It hadn’t been fool proof, and had, in fact, been quite painful for the soldier at first. After a few days of work and what probably classified as a lot of dumb luck, Bucky had become the proud owner of an arm that responded both to pressure and temperature. The engineer had smirked in amusement when Bucky had started experimentally stroking various textured items in the shop, testing out the new sensations.

“I noticed somethin’ a couple days back and thought you might like t’see it.” Bucky continued, relaxing the fingers of his left hand. Tony remained quiet, but quirked a brow at him. _Get on with it_.

Bucky rolled his eyes.

One flesh and blood finger drew a short path up the flat wrist plate, and then… _then_ something amazing happened. It was so subtle, anyone could have missed it, but it had happened. Each small plate from Bucky’s wrist to shoulder trembled and fluttered in unison at the sensation.

Tony sucked in a breath and tried to ignore the surge of heat in his belly. Wasn’t that a picture? “Is that – are you – oh shit, do that again,” He breathed in awe, leaning close enough that he could feel Bucky’s breath on the back of his neck. 

Bucky did, lighter this time, and the plates fluttered again in an obvious mimic of a shiver. On his flesh arm, Tony could see gooseflesh rising on his skin.

When Tony looked up at him in shock, Bucky was already watching him, eyes lidded and pupils blown so wide the grey-green of his irises were almost non-existent. He couldn’t look away.

“Damn. Now you must be hitting on me,” Tony sassed him, mouth dry. It fell painfully flat when his voice came out as a croak and he licked his lips, nervously.

Bucky leaned an inch closer. “Idiot, ’course I am. How’s it workin’ out for me?”

“Pretty damn good, I’d say.” Tony shot back, and then he was reaching a hand up to Bucky’s neck and tugging him down into a heated kiss.

Bucky came willingly, arms instinctively settling onto Tony’s hips and tugging him into the vee of his legs where he was still seated on the adjustable chair next to the workbench. His fingers twitched slightly on his hips, exerting enough pressure to keep him deliciously immobilized between Bucky’s knees.

Tony kissed him desperately, nipping at his bottom lip until he was opening his mouth and Tony was shoving his tongue inside, licking at the back of his teeth, teasing against Bucky’s own tongue. He tasted faintly of citrus and mint. He tasted of pure sin and Tony was the furthest thing from a saint.

For a moment, they battled for control over the kiss. All clacking teeth and sweeping tongues until Tony gave over and let Bucky plunder his mouth; tip his head back and taste all that Tony had to offer, shoving his tongue halfway down his throat.

Bucky moaned into his mouth and Tony carded a hand through his hair, tightening into a grip at the nape of his neck and drawing him closer, somehow. He kissed him and kissed him and kissed him until they were both gasping, battling for breath as their lips separated and drew back together; powerful magnets.

“C’mere,” Bucky gasped into his mouth, hands tugging the belt loops on his jeans, “Tony, c’mere.” And then Tony was on his laps, legs spread wide as he straddled him, Bucky pressing him down further with a hand on his lower back. The flesh hand held him in place lightly as the metal one slid up his spine under his t-shirt, sending a shiver ricocheting straight down to his aching dick.

“You don’t play fair,” Tony hissed, mouth trailing along Bucky’s jaw and onto the scratchy skin of his throat. He wasted no time sucking a deep hickey into the soft skin below his ear, knowing it would fade before they were finished and half wishing it would stay. Tony was only mildly shocked to realize that he wanted to mark him. _Claim_ him for anyone to see. 

Bucky chuckled deep in his throat; eyes closed as he tipped his head back further. “You have no idea, doll,” Bucky growled at him, punctuating his point with a gentle tug at Tony’s hips as he rolled his own upward.

Tony bit back a moan at the contact, feeling Bucky rock hard and pulsing in his jeans, pressing into his own hard on. He rolled his hips back, grinding harder into Bucky’s stomach, half-crazed for relief. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on; this painfully hard.

The fingers trailing his spine slid down and pulled his shirt up and over his head in one fluid motion, and Tony praised God for the undershirt he’d thrown on earlier that morning, hiding the scarring and mottled flesh on his chest. Even fully healed, the heavy scarring that crossed over the white circle of tissue the arc reactor had left behind, right above his heart, and veered down to the left was exceptionally gruesome. He could hardly stand to look at it himself. Hello showering in the dark.

When Bucky went for his undershirt, he paused him with hand on his chest. “Better not, Buckaroo. Not the prettiest sight these days and I really, really not want to ruin all _this_ ,” Tony asserted his point, sliding his hands down Bucky’s chest over flat stomach until they traced along the top of his plain, black leather belt.

“I want to see you,” He husked into his ear, “All of you,” And then before Tony could stop him, and with incredibly poor bedroom etiquette, Bucky literally ripped the shirt off his body, mistaking his unease for shyness. It would have been sexy as hell if Tony was too busy feeling a rush of shame and mortification.

The scar stopped Bucky in his tracks and Tony closed his eyes, pressing tight. 

“What the fuck.”

Oh well, Tony thought, it had been fun while it lasted.

Then, “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“Bucky –” Before Tony could reply Bucky’s mouth was on his chest, hands gripping his hips when he squirmed in his grip and tried to pry himself free. The expert tongue darted out to flick at his right nipple first, then licked a broad swipe across the tight white skin to the other nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He teased then, drawing his teeth across sensitive skin ever so slightly before he started again, this time trailing kisses back to the right.

Tony’s body was torn between the sob brewing in his throat and the sparks of pleasure shooting off in his stomach. It was so incredibly tender; loving and sweet, but heady and dark with the promise of what’s to come.

After a short moment, Tony threaded his fingers back into his hair and let himself hold Bucky’s head to his chest, kneeling over him ever so slightly. He drew a rattling breath and let himself push the dark memories aside, as Bucky did something positively filthy with his tongue over his nipple. Tony bucked up against him when he bit down, hard, twisting the sensitive bud between his teeth.

Bucky’s hands worked his belt loop open and slid it from around his hips, tossing it off to the side. He flicked the button on Tony’s jeans open then paused, mouth nipping at the flesh of his shoulder.

“If ya don’t want this sugar, you should stop me now.” Bucky growled.

“Shut up and fuck me.” Tony replied bluntly, rolling his hips against him again in an obvious invitation. He tugged Bucky’s head back to see the ex-assassin grinning up at him and kissed him soundly, all teeth and tongue and fumbling hands as Tony worked to keep up.

A hand slid, only slightly awkwardly, into his jeans at an odd angle and then Bucky was groping him through the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs.

“Oh fucking Christ – Bucky, god.” Tony groaned, pressing his forehead into the curve of his throat. Bucky stroked him with expert precision, tight and slow from root to tip, flattening his palm against the fabric to cradle his cockhead where it wept steadily in his shorts.

“You got a bed down here or somethin’?” Bucky grunted below him, “Spend enough time down here’n all.”

Tony smacked a hand against his shoulder, but he laughed and then he was directing Bucky towards the simple cot in the far corner, strewn with half-finished projects and gadgets. Bucky lifted him easily into his arms and Tony squeaked, clenching his arms around Bucky’s neck, pressing his mouth to his throat. With a slight stumble, as his now unsecured pants slid straight down to his ankles, Bucky kicked out of them and shuffled them towards the cot until he was holding Tony with one arm and brushing everything off the soft mattress.

Bucky practically threw him down on the cot, giving him a heated gaze, and settling his weight carefully back on top of him. Tony immediately drew his legs around his waist, pulling them back together chest to groin, and trying to simultaneously force Bucky’s boxers down at the same time. Taking pity on him, the super soldier leaned back slightly in his grip and shoved the fabric down his legs, where it tangled at his ankles. He gave Tony the same treatment and then Bucky was dipping back down and thrusting lightly against him, heated flesh against heated flesh.

“Oh fuck, Tony,” Bucky gasped into his ear, pressing open mouthed kisses to the shell of his ear, “You’re so – oh that’s -- you feel good, so fucking good for me.” One of Bucky’s massive hands reached down between them and curved around them both, making each thrust a delicious drag of skin on skin.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Tony bit out, hips twitching upward of their own accord now. “Shit please – more – please more, god.” And just like that the hand on his cock was gone and Bucky was sliding down his body and shoving him further up the cot, licking a stripe across the sprinkle of hair on his stomach before pausing. Bucky waited until Tony’s eyes flicked down to meet his and shot him a dirty wink, before he leaned down and swallowed him to the root.

Tony’s hips came up off the bed as he cried out, “Oh Jesus, fucking Christ, Bucky, your mouth. Slow – slow down – I, oh just – I won’t last if you –” He gripped Bucky by the hair, hard. Not one to stray far from instructions, Bucky’s mouth slowed on his cock, licking slowly upward and swirling around the head.

The pink tip of his tongue shooting out to lick at his slit made Tony cover his eyes with a hand and try to think of something else. Literally _anything else_ aside from the sweltering heat of Bucky’s mouth and the way he was seemingly determined to take Tony apart before they even got to the _really_ good stuff.

When Bucky swallowed him down again, Tony tugged him harder, yanking his mouth off him, relishing the way that Bucky whined. Was that because of the hair pulling or because he was just that desperate? Tony catalogued that thought away for another time.

“Fuck me,” Tony demanded, curving over to rustle around in the set of drawers behind the cot. “Fuck me right fucking now.” He chucked a small tube of lube to Bucky, who caught it with precision and snapped the cap open.

“That’s a bit much,” Tony sassed him, as the super soldier, in his eagerness, poured so much slick into his hand that it was all but running down his wrist.

“Gimme a break it’s been, like, seventy years.” Bucky groused, then plainly, “Next time I’m going to lick you open until you scream.” The soldier smirked at Tony’s widening eyes and whispered _oh fuck_ before he eased a finger inside him. With a small groan, Bucky’s eyes flicked up to his and Tony was already grinning back at him. “What were you doin’ this morning, doll?”

“Fucking myself in the shower.” Tony ground back as a second finger joined the first easily, he was still half-loose from earlier. “Thinking about you.”

“Honest?” Bucky asked, genuine.

Tony shot him a look. “I’ve been thinking about you fucking me with that metal arm since you tried to shoot me.”

That caused Bucky to pause and the fingers inside him stilled. Tony squirmed uneasily, pushing back into the delicious pressure. “Just the metal arm?” The vulnerability in his voice was a surprise.

“Baby, I’d let you fuck me with my own screwdriver if that was the only way I could have you.” Tony replied with brutal honesty. It was worth it, the way that Bucky’s eyes darkened and the fingers pressed hard inside his body, dragging deliciously across his prostate. When he moaned, Bucky repeated the gesture, curling his fingers harder and leaning over him to suck the tip of his prick back into his mouth. “Oh my god, you’re evil.”

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” Bucky growled, between teasing kisses to Tony’s shaft, “you’re so hot – so tight. Look at you, taking my fingers like you were fucking made for this.” He slid a third finger into him and Tony whined again. “Oh doll, tell me you’re ready for me.”

Without bothering with a response, Tony pushed himself up on one elbow and drew Bucky’s mouth back to his, a hand searching between their legs to grip his cock and pumping him slowly in his hands for a long moment. Releasing his cock, Tony gripped Bucky’s right wrist and gently drew his fingers out of him, curling Bucky’s own wet fingers around his cock to slick him up in one smooth motion.

Bucky gasped, body following Tony’s grip until he was lined up and pushing the thick tip of his cockhead into Tony’s wet heat.

“Oh – oh fuck that’s – Bucky that’s just –“ Tony broke off with a sharp breath, head dropping back, eyes closing. “That’s just glorious.” The delicious stretch continued as Bucky pushed slowly into him, inch after delicious inch, burying himself in the engineer’s welcoming body.

The metal arm was planted beside Tony’s hip, cool metal pressing just up against the skin within reach. When Bucky had pushed in to the hilt, pausing to give Tony a moment to adjust, Tony met his eye and grinned, reaching over to draw one finger across the sensitive wrist-plate on Bucky’s right arm.

Bucky gasped and the plates fluttered under his attention, a shiver racing through Bucky’s body and bringing him pitching forward.

“Tony!”

“That’s gorgeous,” And he wasn’t talking about the arm as he stroked a hand across Bucky’s heated cheek. “Now hop to it Soldier, fuck me like you mean it.”

Then the real fun began, as Bucky pulled back and thrust into him in one quick motion, filling him to the hilt. He set a brutal pace, pounding into him with long, deep strokes until Tony was panting and reaching for him, drawing their mouths together until they weren’t even kissing, just sharing gasping breaths and exchanging heated words of pleasure.

At some point Tony had drawn one of his legs up further, holding himself open for Bucky to adjust his angle and thrust hot across Tony’s prostate. The sensation was just on the right side of too much and made him twitch in delightful agony.

“Shit, Buck, please – oh I can’t – please sweetheart, god please.” Tony was babbling now, pleasure twisting near the point of painful in his gut and pulling so tight he might snap at any moment.

“So good for me, dollface. Look at you. Hold on Tony – just – ah fuck, hold on baby.” Bucky’s babbling answered his own as his thrusts started to stutter out of rhythm. He licked at Tony’s neck, soothing the bites he had left there moments earlier, and then unceremoniously spat in his hand, reaching down between them to grip Tony’s cock. “Gonna stroke you off sugar,” Bucky gasped into his mouth, “Need ta – oh god – need ta feel ya comin’ on my cock. Gonna let me feel you come for me, beautiful?”

It was too much. Tony whimpered desperately at the dual sensation, Bucky’s hand moving in tandem with the thrusts of his hips. That fucking mouth.

Then he was coming, Bucky’s teeth biting down on one of his nipples. His orgasm was white hot, and it just kept coming and coming, spurting white ropes of pleasure upward and coating them both. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he had come like that.

“Oh fuck, yes doll, yes” Bucky pounded into him, hands probably leaving bruises where they’re pressed into his hips, “That’s just – oh, _shit_ Tony, I’m –” And then Bucky was shattering, shooting deep inside him, collapsing onto his chest and sucking in breaths like he was literally drowning in his own pleasure.

Tony held him through it, a hand on the back of his neck, mouth pressed against his temple.

They came back to each other slowly, all soft touches and lazy kisses. Bucky brushed a hand through the sweaty hair on his forehead and tipped his jaw up to nip at his bottom lip, gentle now.

“When are we doing that again?” Tony asked a few moments later, the blanket that Bucky had pushed under the cot recovered and pulled over them both. Tony was cradled half on top of his chest, the cot too small to allow for anything more.

Bucky rumbled a laugh. “Just say the word doll.”

And then.

“But I’ll be damned if you expect me to share you with Steve after this.”

Together they shook with quiet laughter, relaxing into the delicious warmth of the afterglow. Tony let himself float peacefully in the sensation of being wrapped in Bucky’s arms, all heated skin and cool, sleek metal. The soldier’s soft, even breaths drift across the side of his neck and he smiled when Bucky nuzzled under his ear, pressing closer.

For the first time in weeks, he felt blissfully at ease. 

He wondered, just for a moment, how long it would last.

**Author's Note:**

> What this could become, given the right tending and care, makes my head hurt because I'm working from home full-time and the pandemic makes me anxious. We'll just leave it as a one-shot for now, hm?
> 
> Stay well.


End file.
